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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982037">Surrender</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanOh/pseuds/DeanOh'>DeanOh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Destiel - Freeform, Hades and Persephone, M/M, alternative universe, myth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:35:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanOh/pseuds/DeanOh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever happens, it's just ten years. Ten whole years in Hell, surrounded by fire and painful screams. And yet, Dean Winchester walks through the entrance of the Underworld, succumbs to the darkness and meets Castiel, the humble God with coal covered fingertips and a warm smile. </p><p>A Hades and Persephone re-telling!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>141</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forbidden_Lover/gifts">Forbidden_Lover</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been SO OVERDUE. I've been writing this short story for over a year now, struggled dearly with words, but HERE WE FINALLY ARE. </p><p>This story is solely dedicated to Forbidden_love, or "love-neve-dies" on Tumblr. Honestly, I don't have enough words in this universe to say how sorry I am for being so late. I really hope you like this! </p><p>This story is a gift, a part of the Destiel Artists United collective. We held a giveaway some time ago to thank our wonderful followers for enjoying our work! Love-neve-dies was one of the winners, and here's the result. </p><p>Small note: English ain't my first language, so if you find any grammar mistakes or anything else - it's my own fault and no one else's.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1.</p><p>Dean Winchester breathes in, deeply, savoring every second, commits all of his senses to memory - he lets his lungs fill with the cold, closes his eyes to feel snowfall on his face. The heavy rock on his chest seems to lift with every lungful, and as he opens his vibrant green eyes to the entrance of Underworld, he’s not as afraid of what lies ahead as he thought. </p><p>“Ten years,” he hears a voice behind him say. It’s more of a repeat of what’s been talked about for hours, but it’s more final now. Rushed. “And remember - no looking back. You look back once, and your brother joins you in the pit.”</p><p>Dean wants to turn around, wants to tell Sam goodbye, knows his brother is clutching at his own furs with the same childish pain from when they were little. It’s as if the demon wants him to do just so, to give in merely seconds into his sentence, but Dean breathes in for the last time and steps into the darkness. </p><p>The first thing he notices is how <em> quiet </em>it is. Dean can’t even hear his own footsteps as he descends, any sliver of light leaves him completely alone with his thoughts with each step. The trail is smooth, dry, and Dean’s fingers unwittingly reach for any grip on the sides, but they find nothing. Heartbeat loud as a drum in his ears, Dean trusts his own feet to carry him forward, and as the dark surrounds him completely and utterly, he loses the last of his breath. It’s hard to remember what a fresh breath of air feels like, now, as time becomes warped, twirls as if it’s something of a luxury. </p><p>Then, he hears them. </p><p>Whispers. </p><p>Sounds. </p><p>Cries. </p><p>Has it been years since he started his descent? All of the stories his father has told him about Underworld don’t add up to what he’s feeling and hearing. The yelling travels from one side to another, sometimes it’s right in his ear and then moves miles away, an echo of torture. </p><p>Gods, Dean wants to turn around. Bile climbs up his throat, fear sets in. He forgets all about winter and his brother. </p><p>As he walks with trembling feet, Dean bumps into <em> something </em>, or rather someone. An angry shuffle later, he hears mumbling. </p><p>“Stay in line, fool,” that someone says. It’s a man, but his words seem twisted. It’s like he’s speaking underwater. “Can’t you see we’re all waiting?”</p><p>Dean blinks. It’s still dark. “We’re in line?”</p><p>Pause. “Are you fucking blind?”</p><p>The screams keep getting louder, but the man still can’t gargle up a sentence Dean doesn’t have to decipher. “Where are we?”</p><p>“We’re in Hell, you fool,” the man sounds clearer now, but further away. So Dean steps forward to hear better. “There’s a line. There’s always a line. Don’t overstep.”</p><p>Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. The wailing comes and goes, there’s murmurs and whispers Dean can’t understand, but the waiting is what bothers him the most. He can’t tell if he’s been waiting for years, or minutes, the line seems to move forward and then backward. Wanting to scream, Dean tries to bottle it all in, hugs himself and tries to calm down. Tears stream down his face as his thoughts come to an immediate stop. </p><p>Someone’s next to him. </p><p>Even if he can’t see, the vibrant <em> feeling </em> of someone standing and observing him doesn’t leave him for one second. Dean blinks, but the darkness doesn’t go away. A sliver of a breath caresses his face, and Dean feels like he’s choking on it. </p><p>“I know you’re watching me,” he manages out. His throat closes up, as if he hasn’t spoken a word in decades. It’s so so so dry. “There’s a line, you don’t have to stand so close to me.”</p><p>A chuckle. A <em> chuckle </em> in the dark. Dean’s skin erupts in goosebumps. </p><p>“I’m not waiting in line.” The voice is a rumbling mess, deep and calm. Terrifying. </p><p>Dean lets himself get carried forward with the line, and the person moves with him. Even if they’re not shoulder to shoulder, the unsettling feeling of the man standing next to him doesn’t really go away. Like a spider you can’t see in the middle of the night. </p><p>“Then,” Dean says after a while, “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”</p><p>The man stays silent for a second, then says, “You’re not really alone if you’re in a line full of other people, you know?”</p><p>“They’re not really keen on making friends,” Dean scoffs. Fear leaves him - he honestly wants to be left alone now, knowing full well he might stand in line for ten years. He’d rather have that than this man following him for eternity. “And I can’t see anything, so I’m not sure if I’m trying to talk to the same people or if they’re just more interested in standing in line than talking to me.”</p><p>“Let me let you in on a little secret,” the man says. “If you can’t see, that means you’re not supposed to be here.”</p><p>“Excuse me for not knowing the map of Hell,” Dean says. </p><p>Again, the chuckle. “If there was a map of the Underworld, I’d be delighted to see it. I get lost here quite a lot, although the eternal line to my throne is the easiest road sign to reach the Gardens as well. You’re definitely not where you’re supposed to be.”</p><p>Dean loses all of his demeanor. His <em> throne </em>?</p><p>“You’re… You’re Castiel? God of the Underworld?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t really call myself a God of the Underworld. More of a protector of the underground and such. I don’t usually deal with people who have made bad choices in their previous lives, I only observe and judge whenever necessary, my followers do their job accordingly. But you? You’re a shining beacon, it was hard to walk past and see you stand here in the first circle.”</p><p>He feels a hand on his shoulder, a strong grip and he’s suddenly pulling away, still blind as a bat. “Where are you taking me - no, I can’t move backwards, you don’t understand -”</p><p>“I don’t need to abide by your rules,” Castiel says, and moves both of them, with Dean facing backwards as stubborn as he can be. “I’m sure whatever they have told you upstairs is <em> very </em> scary and <em> all </em> of your family is going to follow suite, but you’re not the one turning back. I’m leading you. It’s not your decision to make.”</p><p>He tries to turn Dean around, but Dean stands his ground, the grip of Castiel’s hand quickly becomes heated, burning through Dean’s raggedy clothes. He <em> can </em> see the light touch, somehow, those nimble fingers come into view and they’re covered in soot, drenched in it, as if Castiel’s been holding coals. When Dean looks up, he sees the cool tone of blue in Castiel’s eyes, the raven curls on his forehead, and a dark crown, decorated with burgundy rubies. Dean can’t see the line, can’t see the throne, but he can see Castiel’s intent stare. It’s incredibly unnerving to stand so close to the God of the underworld. </p><p>“I can’t turn around,” Dean says, breathless. “I can’t. I’m not here to pay for my sins, I’m not even supposed to be under your rule.”</p><p>“Explains the beacon of light surrounding you,” Castiel says, looking up as he ponders. His jawline is incredibly well put together, Dean thinks stupidly. “Well? Who did you replace?”</p><p>“My brother.”</p><p>“What did he do?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>Castiel starts pushing him again, and Dean walks backwards. The air around them seems clearer, Dean finally sees the zig-zag of the eternal line, of the red flames drowning people in the distance. They’re all shadows, rippling as they march together. As Dean looks down to see his own hands, he sees a faint light coming off his skin. </p><p>“It’d be <em> so </em> much easier if you just turned around and followed me,” Castiel says again. </p><p>“Where are you even taking me?” Dean demands. </p><p>Castiel’s coy smile doesn’t give him any hints. “To my court,” he says. “I need to figure out where to put you if you’re claiming your brother did nothing. There are plenty of options.”</p><p>“You’re the king of this place,” Dean says, his heart in his throat. “Don’t you already know why I’m here?”</p><p>“I’m not all-knowing,” Castiel says, still smiling.</p><p>Dean takes the oncoming silence as a sign to observe the tall mountains of the Underworld, of pathways and suffering. The walls are covered in red rocks, some dripping with molten lava, the heat tickles Dean’s face even from where they are. There are rivers of heat right below the one pathway Castiel is dragging him on, the tails of bursting flames go as far as the eye sees - there are no clouds, no stars, just pointed stalactites hanging from above. Dean trips slightly as Castiel’s hand leaves his forearm. The world goes dark again. </p><p> </p><p>2.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Underworld <em> is </em> dark. </p><p>It’s dark where it counts, where someone doesn’t want to be seen, and in such cases, Castiel lingers in the corners of the gardens, deep behind the other circles of the Underworld, full of his loyal followers doing his job for him. As the reigning God of the deep underground, Castiel doesn’t have much of a problem when it comes to <em> seeing </em>how eternally beautiful the gardens are. Most Gods can’t see past the darkness.</p><p>There are faint hues of blue and violet, of scarlet and green, hidden behind the black roots circling around bushes and small walkways. One of the corners he’s hiding in has a flat rock he sits on, carefully placed there a hundred years ago, polished by his own rough hands. There’s always coal on Castiel’s fingers, no matter how much he tries to brush it off on his royal black fleece coat - the coal comes back each time he pushes his way back to his throne, ends up on his fingertips from all of the burned roots; he lives and breathes death, something so fragile and hauntingly beautiful, lingering just as he is in the darkness. </p><p>The Underworld is dark as it is loud – something Castiel really doesn’t like indulging in. The newcomers make <em> so much </em> noise, what with their cries for help and downright preposterous wails of how they’re not supposed to be there. Fidgeting with his dirty fingers, Castiel picks up one of the burned roots that instantly grows red petals, forms into a gorgeous fiery flower that sizzles on his fingertips. He breathes in the smoke, lungs fill with longing and serenity – Castiel thinks the smell of some of the Hell circles could be dealt with planting more of these flowers, maybe even creating gardens for his loyal followers. They would probably appreciate his kindness and then he wouldn’t have to listen to more wailing if they’d accept more doomed souls. The process is uncanny – whoever is responsible for murders, thieving, or any other horrible deed, they’re the ones who walk into Hell and get picked by lower-grade demons, all with a purpose to show what consequences come with bad decisions. Sometimes his demons leave the banished souls in the first circle, where they wander and endure grievous pain.</p><p>“Castiel?”</p><p>A voice brings Castiel back from his thoughts, and he crushes the fire flower in his palm, leaving a burning mark around the soot covering his hands. Standing up, Castiel quickly picks up a couple of branches and moss patches, hides his seat, and breathes in for the last time.</p><p>“My lord!” Meg, his right hand and most loyal friend, calls again. Castiel can see her quite well, and her burning eyes find him just as fast. Meg is dressed in dark silks that move as if they’re fluttering in the wind. “Fuck, I’ve been searching for ages, we’ve got a slight situation on our hands.”</p><p>“Situation?” Castiel says, narrowing his eyes. They walk down the pathways, almost hand in hand, with Meg’s fire lighting the way out.</p><p>“Well,” she says, avoiding his searching look. “I don’t really mind sitting on your throne from time to time, but holy <em> fuck </em> do I hate talking to those morons in line. I’ve been trying to sort them out with their respective demons, and all seemed to accept their fate with less to no fuss, but there’s this one <em> guy </em> –“</p><p>“Oh no.”</p><p>“Oh yes. He <em> shines </em>, Castiel. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before, but no demon has claimed him yet.”</p><p>Castiel rolls his eyes. “What did he do to end up here?”</p><p>Meg purses her lips, lifting her eyebrows up. “Volunteered to go instead of his brother.”</p><p>“Damn.”</p><p>“Fuck damn. His brother made a deal with Zeus, the gods-damned idiot thought Zeus would let him marry his daughter if he stayed in the Underworld for ten years. So the guy offered to go instead of him, and now the brother is happily married, as long as Dean Winchester keeps his promise.”</p><p>Castiel raises an eyebrow. He’s heard of the name Winchester before. Whispers reach his kingdom from time to time – he’s not much interested in gossip that happens above ground, and yet, Zeus <em> always </em> sends people downstairs whenever anyone tries to strike a deal with him, so the gossip trail follows. Humans are stupid. Even if Castiel’s the overlord of the Underworld, he still feels for the people who end up in front of him, crying about their families and the mistakes they’ve made. Still, as Meg has mentioned, humans accept their fates either way, especially the ones with deals they can’t possibly uphold.</p><p>“I can stay a little longer, if you’d like,” Meg says as they enter the auditorium, seemingly in seconds. “I find it more enjoyable than seeing tongues burned off with lava anyway. Just please deal with him first.”</p><p>“Why don’t you just let him wander with the rest?” Castiel says, observing the ever-growing line. Ah, yes. There’s the shine, an everflowing light in the middle of a puddle of sin. “I don’t understand why you had to pull me back just because of one human.”</p><p>She snorts. “I’d let him wander, of course, but the light is very distracting.”</p><p>“What’s the deal, then? Does he just have to stay here for ten years, or is there a catch?”</p><p>Meg smirks. “It’s Zeus. Of course there’s a catch.”</p><p>Castiel snorts. “Does he have to stay silent forever, or perhaps, he can’t ever sit down?”</p><p>“He can’t turn back around, no matter what happens.”</p><p>He dismisses Meg with a wave of his hand, and she leaves him be. Taking a good look at this Dean Winchester proves to be difficult, with the aura of light covering the man head to toe, and so Castiel stands there for a good while trying to discern what to do. On one hand, he could potentially trick this man into turning around, just so he’d get rid of this light forever. It’d be so easy - one more soul down the spiral wouldn’t make much of a dent in his personal life, but then again, the man had gone down with a noble reason. Lifting his soot covered fingers, Castiel thinks of all the souls he’s condemned in the past, thinks about the man in front of him shining like a beacon, and then the man breathes in and <em> talks </em> to him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Dean Winchester doesn’t just shine from the outside - his light covers the entire garden with every breathy laugh, light trails behind him when he blindly walks down the pathways, when he stumbles, and especially when he looks at Castiel without knowing he’s standing there. Castiel has never met a human being like this man in front of him - with fingers made of molten gold, and a heart so painfully warm. The heat comes and goes in the Underworld, but Dean’s fingers are so unbelievably homely when Castiel touches him once in a while - Castiel rarely likes touching human souls, doesn’t interact much with the damned, and here Dean is in all his glory, lighting up Castiel’s garden. </p><p>Once Dean blinks a couple of times to get used to his newly found sight and Castiel’s hand on his, he looks around as if it’s the first time he sees the Garden. Castiel has been giving him tasks from time to time, and finds himself getting used to Dean’s presence, what with Dean’s constant blind roaming. Lifting up his other hand, Dean notices his black covered fingers and the flowers blooming all around them, colored in crimson. </p><p>“What would you like me to do today?” Dean asks, meeting Castiel’s eyes again and again and again. Castiel quite likes the green looking back at him. </p><p>It’s already been a year. Time runs differently here in the Gardens. </p><p>Dean still hasn’t turned around on his own accord, much to Castiel’s dismay and entertainment. </p><p>“Walk with me,” Castiel says, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m sure you’re quite bored of walking around in the dark.”</p><p>“I kind of like the dark,” Dean says. Those green eyes never leave him. “I sometimes forget that I’m in the Underworld when I sit around for days and listen to the screams.”</p><p>“They’re not that bad when you get used to it.”</p><p>“Yeah, well.” Dean laughs. “You’re way ahead of me. You’ve been here since the dawn of time.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call it the dawn of time to be precise -”</p><p>“Okay, grandpa. I’ll walk with you.”</p><p>Castiel <em> likes </em> this. He likes the way Dean isn’t afraid of being himself in front of Castiel, he definitely <em> loves </em> how Dean’s so adamantly stubborn about taking on any task anyone gives him - just a month ago, Castiel’s followers asked him to cut down some of the bushes in the Gardens, without Castiel there to bless Dean with sight. For the longest time, Dean’s hands were bleeding raw from all the burning blooms, fingertips shaking as Dean yanked at the branches until he’d scream himself raw. Time and time again, he took it upon himself to suffer, so his brother wouldn’t have to go through the same at the hands of a cruel God. </p><p>At first, Castiel had thought it funny; a man so devoted to his family suffers for his brother and doesn’t complain when his skin burns to the bone. Somewhere down the line, Castiel’s heart started dropping at every whimper from Dean’s lips. </p><p>As they walk down the small pathways, Castiel’s hand remains on Dean’s, tightly clasped just so Dean wouldn’t look away from him. </p><p>“Why am I the only human here?” Dean asks. He’s not entirely alone, the followers like slithering around the Garden when Castiel’s on the other side of the Underworld. “Surely you’ve got thousands of souls who could tend to your Garden. I’m better at taking care of animals than Gardens.”</p><p>“So I’ve heard,” Castiel says, leading him down and picking at the flowers on the way. They burn so beautiful on Castiel’s skin. “Your brother is struggling to replace you on your farm. His wife blesses the soil, and he himself works tirelessly on the crops, but the animals lack the proper care.”</p><p>Dean stops in his tracks, breathing in heavily. “He’s still on the farm?”</p><p>Castiel narrows his eyes. “Isn’t that what your father and mother left you? I would’ve thought you’d be happy to know he’s still there.”</p><p>It’s unbearably quiet for a second or two, save for the occasional echoes of screams. Dean closes his eyes to the world suddenly, scrunches his eyebrows together. His face is sculpted by the Gods, built so perfectly with those sun-kissed freckles and full lips, a gift to this world and especially Castiel who just drinks it all in when he knows Dean isn’t watching. </p><p>“Sam was supposed to take his wife to the capital,” Dean says, gritting his teeth. “He was supposed to study under the great philosophers, to take a seat in high courts. <em> Why </em> did he go back to the farm? Married to a half-goddess and he chooses to be a farmer.” </p><p>Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand, and is taken aback when Dean squeezes back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did out of guilt. I have seen a lot of poor decisions here, some noble and some selfish. What would you have done if you were your brother?” Castiel says. Dean’s gorgeous gaze falls back on him, taking the breath out of Castiel’s lungs. “Come on. Walk with me. I have a job for you.” </p><p>Without a moment for Dean to protest, Castiel leads Dean forward, away from the burning bushes and flowers. </p><p>“I would have left for the capital,” Dean mumbles behind Castiel. “I can restart the farm once I come back, nature can be tamed with the right tools. He’s throwing away ten years of opportunities.” </p><p>They walk for a good while until the Gardens are way behind them, where the darkness of the Underworld disappears, where Hell is as blazing red as Dean had imagined. Passing by the line of souls, Castiel points at the enormous gates waiting for them down the road. Dean’s eyes widen at the beast lying down next to the gates, snoring away with the gates open and the people in line passing through without any hassle. </p><p>“Cerberus,” Dean exclaims, eyes glued to the three-headed dog the size of a house. </p><p>“Correct,” Castiel replies with a smile. “He’s the love of my life. Even I’m scared of him sometimes, but you need not be. You don’t belong behind the gates, therefore he won’t attack you if you don’t pass through.”</p><p>“He’s sleeping on the job.” </p><p>Castiel winces. “Technically, no one sleeps in the Underworld. That’s why I brought you here. You’ve worked with animals your whole life, and I do understand that a three-headed beast doesn’t have many similarities to a regular dog or horse on a farm, but I figured you’d be able to wake him and tend to whatever problem he has.” </p><p>Dean’s hand feels sweaty underneath Castiel’s. “I can’t say I’m too well-versed in caring for a demonic dog that has three heads. Each head has a set of teeth. Sharp teeth. What if he’s hungry.”</p><p>“If it makes you feel any better, he doesn’t eat dead souls.” </p><p>“Yeah, but. I’m not really dead.” </p><p>“Oh. Oh, yes. I forgot.” </p><p>Dean’s eyes widen even more. “You <em> forgot </em>? You literally run this place, you’re a God. Can’t believe you’re more human than I am!” </p><p>“I’ve told you I’m not all-knowing.” </p><p>“And yet, I know more about your pet than you do! All my life my Mom told me stories about Cerberus and the great King of Hell, the man who dooms souls to rot and burn in the lava pits. I’m having trouble putting you and him together. When I was coming down to meet my fate I was scared shitless - I’m wondering now why I was so anxious. All you’ve asked me to do so far was to care for your <em> dog. </em>” </p><p>“You’ve burned your hands raw for a year,” Castiel retorts. </p><p>“Yeah, but that wasn’t because you asked me to. Castiel, you just hold my hand and make me look around. I think you should really reconsider your role as a God of Death.” </p><p>Castiel laughs. “I’m not the God of Death, quite frankly, I’m the God of <em> the dead. </em> There’s a huge difference. Making humans suffer doesn’t really bode well with me. I’ve told you before, haven’t I? I’m here to observe and judge whenever necessary.” </p><p>“Then why am I special?” </p><p>A pause. A breath. Dean’s a silent as death itself. So Castiel just says, “I’ve never met anyone here who would defy all of my expectations, Dean. You <em> are </em>special. And let me tell you, you’re the first person in the entire Underworld who’s not afraid of me, not even one bit.” </p><p>“Okay,” Dean days, finally. “I’ll help you with Cerberus.” </p><p>And oh, how he does. Dean releases Castiel’s hand. With zero vision, Dean approaches those giant three heads. He looks so small compared to the beast, Dean’s entire body is the size of one head, but that doesn’t stop him from petting the dog’s huge paws, or smiling when Cerberus starts wagging his massive tail that hits the gates with loud bangs. Dean reads into every movement, waits until Cerberus rolls over at Dean’s smallest command, which leaves Castiel gaping. No living soul has ever had Cerberus acting like this. Dean’s soul shines when he finds a bloody gash on the side, with Cerberus lying there as obedient as he’s ever been. </p><p>It takes a small army of Castiel’s followers to cover up the gash with a healing salve, and Dean, beautiful, arrogant, kind Dean tells them what to do without seeing what he’s doing. Castiel’s heart beats harder when Cerberus stands up on his paws, towers over all of them with the might only a three-headed being has. The followers scramble to get out of Cerberus’ way, but not Dean. He stands there with his light shining bright, he’s smiling from ear to ear. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It’s been centuries since Castiel showed himself outside of his lair. Nothing looks the same anymore as Castiel takes his first step out, feels the spring grass beneath his coal covered toes, and as he lifts his head to the sky, he sees clouds upon clouds covering the stars. A bad night for a walk, but Castiel sets off with a mission, his dark robes following him like a trail of shadows and smoke, wind blows at his messy hair, caresses his face, saying hello after all of these years. The air is filled with smells Castiel has missed - moss, flowers, freshly cut grass, of new beginnings. </p><p>Walking the mortal ground is easy for a God, and so is finding Sam Winchester cradling a baby in his arms on a small porch, the farm stretching right behind the equally small house. </p><p>Sam Winchester, who is in the process of cooing to his son, lifts his eyes the moment Castiel’s cloak settles on the ground, the trail of smoke dissipates in thin air. Before Sam can scream out loud, his wife steps out through the doors of their house, holding her hands up high, her eyes blazing with anger and flames. </p><p>“You’re <em> not </em>taking him with you!” she yells out, hands lighting up with blazes of lighting, sparks fly on the wooden flooring beneath her feet. “By Zeus, I’ll murder you if you even touch a piece of his hair.”</p><p>Castiel holds his hands up, too, but in a very defensive manner. Right above his head, the image of calm and collected. “I’m not here for Sam. Or the baby. Or you.”</p><p>Sam stands up, looking between the two very powerful beings having a small stand-off. “Who is he, Sarah?”</p><p>“He’s Castiel,” she says, brows still furrowed and hands still crackling. “God of the Dead, the man who let your brother freely walk into Hell without consulting Zeus first.”</p><p>Castiel rolls his eyes. “I don’t talk to Zeus, nor does he talk to me. I didn’t even know who Dean Winchester was until he waltzed in with his soul shining like a star.”</p><p>“You could have sent him back.”</p><p>“I’m also not the one to break promises made to Zeus.”</p><p>Sam opens his mouth, then closes it. Hugs the baby to his chest harder. “Then why are you here? Is Dean in trouble?”</p><p>Castiel slowly lowers his hands with Sarah lowering hers, the lighting disappears completely. The evening spring breeze blows Sarah’s hair away from her face. “Oh, the contrary. He’s been helping me around. He’s pretty good with dogs.”</p><p> Sam shares a look with his wife, then asks, “You’ve got dogs?”</p><p>“One. Or three. It really depends how you see it.”</p><p>Sarah raises her eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you let him get close to your demon beast.” </p><p>“Cerberus is nice to him. Please, I’d like to talk about Dean, and not my dog, now. I don’t have a lot of time.” </p><p>Sam’s face falls into worry, his genuine reaction warms Castiel’s heart just a little bit. “Then talk,” he says, softly. </p><p>And Castiel tells them all about how Dean’s kindness has earned the love of a thousand of his followers, how he’s been getting tasks that don’t hurt his precious skin anymore, how Castiel talks with him for hours and how Dean misses his family dearly. Then, he gets to something much more important. </p><p>“Dean’s angry with you in particular, Sam,” Castiel says. “You were supposed to pursue your dream, yet here you are, tending to your brother’s farm.”</p><p>“I couldn’t just leave, he’s spent years taking care of our home. There’s so much to do, still.” </p><p>“Yes,” Castiel says. “He’s mostly frustrated he can’t come and kick you out himself. Sam, nothing would make your brother happier than you and your family going and getting your own life together. He’s told me that nature takes its course, and it’s easy to tame it, which he’ll do once he comes back - you, on the other hand, need time to build a life you’ve dreamed of. Don’t waste your brother’s years.” </p><p>“I can’t,” Sam says. “I can’t let it overgrow.” </p><p>Castiel breathes in and breathes out. “Let’s make a deal then, Sam. You already know a God has to keep their word if you keep your end of the bargain. I don’t offer deals to mortals, but I’m willing to give you a chance.” </p><p>“Is this some kind of torture for Dean?”</p><p>“No.” Castiel shakes his head. “I’ve grown very fond of your brother over this year, and it pains me to see him suffer over your choices. So please, hear me out. I’ll protect the farm, I’ll stop it from overgrowing, and I’ll take care of the cattle. That, I promise. You just have to go and pursue your dream. Take your wife, take your child, and go.”</p><p>Sam’s eyes narrow. “There’s a catch.” </p><p>Castiel smiles. “Of course. If your brother turns around even once, I’ll leave the farm to run its own course.” </p><p>Then, Castiel returns to the Underground just as Sam starts packing what little belongings they have, and Sarah’s worried eyes follow Castiel’s smoke and shadow as he disappears behind the hills. Dean, beautiful Dean, sleeps where Castiel has left him - right next to Cerberus, who protects him with his life, tail wrapped around the beacon of light. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>3.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s gotten used to being in the dark - his senses sharpen over time, and he finds it easier to recognize Castiel just from the way that he walks. The rustling of nearby bushes, Castiel’s breathy laugh, the safety bubble that comes when the God of the Dead comes makes Dean savor every second they spend together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel never gives him any tasks, mostly he just grabs Dean’s hand and walks him around the deepest parts of Hell, shows him the stalaktite covered caverns full of rubies the size of Dean’s head, then walks him over to the brilliantly blue cavern lakes. When Dean skims the water with his fingertips, shivers go down his spine. The water’s freezing. Castiel warms Dean’s hands in his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit next to one of these cerulean bodies of water, Castiel seemingly deep in thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wonder,” Dean starts. “Do you play favorites often?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m kind of waiting for you to throw me into one of these lakes when a new shiny human comes in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel meets his eyes curiously. “A few </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow. Do you keep all of them in the Gardens?” Dean nudges Castiel with his shoulder. Playfully. That’s what they’ve been doing for the past year, right after Castiel has persuaded Sam to go and pursue his dreams. Castiel disappears for days at a time, right after Dean explains what needs to be done on the farm. He comes back smelling of dirt and summer. Sometimes it feels like they’re tip-toeing around each other, even with all of this hand holding. Dean loves the way Castiel’s fingers grip firmly, with serious intent. As if Dean would disappear before his eyes if Castiel let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. They’ve made a conscious choice to fuck with a God, and I’m letting them through the gates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t let </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> through the gates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel nods to himself. Gods, he’s beautiful. The blue of the lake matches his eyes, enhances them to the point where Dean can barely look away. Breathtaking. “Truth be told, Dean, I have never, not once in my life, seen a soul shine as brightly as yours does. I wish you could see it for yourself - when I let you go, you shine so brightly that I can see the Gardens in full, your light burns through the coal on every nook and cranny it touches. It’s gorgeous. Why would I deprive myself of something that brings me such immense joy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw,” Dean says, chuckling. “What a way with words, Cas. I’m charmed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your name’s a mouthful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then. Just then. Castiel brings Dean’s hand so close to his own chest. Close enough that Dean’s surprised to feel a </span>
  <em>
    <span>heartbeat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of all things. Dean’s been so afraid of death and the stories his dad used to tell him for so long, but he never, not in a million years, would have guessed that a God would feel as warm as a human touch. Castiel’s warmth seeps through Dean, as Dean’s eyes widen, the God cups Dean’s hand in both of his, holds it so dear and sweet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one’s ever given me a nickname,” Castiel says, almost breathless. Well, Dean can’t breathe anyway, not with Castiel so close to him. “I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stares at him for a good couple of seconds before grabbing Castiel’s other hand and bringing it close to his lips, kissing the knuckles with the utmost care. Knowing full well he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be falling for a God, but there’s no way of turning back, he can’t go back on his promise even on this - not with Castiel giving him the care and attention he’s never gotten from anyone else in his life. Sure, Dean’s had whirlwind romances with several people before, love affairs that felt one-sided in a way. Dean always dove head first. Kissing Castiel’s hand feels like he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>diving</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but it’s never been this easy to breathe. Lightheaded, Dean looks into Castiel’s eyes and smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel looks sad, somehow. Mellow. “What happens after your promised time ends?” he whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make another promise,” Dean says against Castiel’s fingers. “I’ll make a thousand more promises.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t let you suffer down here any longer than you have to, Dean,” Castiel says, so sadly it hurts. “It’s not in your nature to stay in the dark. You belong up there, underneath the stars and blue skies, not where fire burns your feet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rejection hits Dean like a pile of bricks. Of course, Castiel is a God, why would Dean be special enough for Castiel to want him down here? Even with Castiel blatantly telling Dean should wait out his sentence and go back to the farm, Dean can’t help but think about all the ways Castiel says his name out loud. Falling in love does feel like diving, then. More like drowning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean lets go of Castiel’s hand and hugs himself, suddenly cold. He’d rather stay in the dark than see Castiel’s worried eyes search for his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Days, weeks, months pass. Dean chases every second with Castiel, no matter how much it hurts to know that Castiel will let him go the second Dean passes the entrance to the Underworld and breathes the open air again. Castiel, oblivious to Dean’s incessant thoughts, keeps showing him around, draws songs of fire with his fingers in the air, gives him gifts like a chalice with sweet water that replenishes after Dean drinks it, or a bracelet with which Dean can tell if someone’s lying to him or not. Accepting all of them, Dean can’t help but feel that Castiel’s doing all of this just to make Dean better. How come Dean can’t stop looking at his own soot-covered fingers after Castiel touches them? Well, there’s an easy answer to this, but Dean refuses to think about it, just lets himself drown in these intense feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, when they’re alone together in one of the alcoves of Hell, where rubies and emeralds cover the walls like mosaics, Dean longs for Castiel’s heartbeat, wants to split his soul in half just so he’d never have to go back on the farm. Then again, he misses Sam, thinks about the animals Castiel’s tending to, the warmth of the hearth and his very lonely bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has it been since I came here?” Dean asks Castiel, who breaks a ruby in half with his bare fingers. The strength of a God. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost six years,” Castiel answers. He bites his own fingers and drenches the ruby in his blood. It’s not as red as Dean hoped it would be, it’s laced with dark brown and black, unnatural. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t feel like it’s been six years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time here flows differently. Even I have trouble keeping up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean watches the ruby soak up the blood, and it shines bright, like the fire in the pits Dean’s seen passing by. “Might I ask, what are you doing to this ruby? I didn’t know you could bleed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” Castiel says. “Although I can only bleed if another God strikes me. Rarely happens, but then again, I don’t meddle in other God wars enough. I like it here better than on Olympus. It’s a little crowded with all of that ego.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Olympus? Crowded? You have millions of souls crammed in here, I’m pretty sure Olympus isn’t as bad as you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel laughs, and raises his eyebrows at Dean. “Trust me, it’s better to stay here than listen to Zeus talk all day. I’ve had enough of that when we first came to be. Took me eons to convince him someone needed to be underground to make sure there were no problems with the dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always forget you’re millions of years old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m endless,” Castiel says. “I think the most beautiful thing about being human is that you age, your bodies change, your minds grow. It’s really hard for a God to change their ways, especially when there are almost no consequences to anything we do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why the wars, then? Why the colossal titans, human deaths? You guys can’t die, so what’s the point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been trying to understand this for years, Dean,” Castiel says. “I’ve never asked any of them why they’re doing what they’re doing, and they don’t ask me how I run my domain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one of the strongest Gods, you know. According to the stories.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stories?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know? Us humans have legends about you all. Histories, even. Some say that you’re stronger than Zeus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one’s stronger than Zeus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grins. “I disagree. You’ve been to Olympus, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has Zeus ever gone down to the Underworld?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel thinks about this for a while, rubbing the ruby in between his fingers. His other hand grips Dean’s. “No. Come to think of it, he has never set foot near the entrance, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? My dad used to tell me stories that Zeus is ghastly afraid of you, that’s why he never comes down to see you. Very mighty of him to never see the God of the Underworld.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence commences, as Castiel becomes thoughtful. Then, he gives Dean the ruby and lets go of Dean’s hand. The warmth disappears, and Dean instantly longs for it. Prepared for everything to go dark again, Dean braces himself with his feet firmly on the ground just so he wouldn’t lose his footing, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>happens. He can still see. Dean blinks a couple of times, and Castiel grins. “It worked!” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ruby?” Dean says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve enchanted it to hold my flesh and blood inside, so you wouldn’t have to ever be blind again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Dean says, his heart breaking inside. He cherished moments with Castiel so much, and now the God doesn’t want to touch him. A ruby. What a waste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d be happy,” Castiel says, picking up on Dean’s sour mood. “Don’t you want to walk around on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” Dean says, almost venomous. “At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>won’t have to chaperone me around, holding my hand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?” Castiel reaches for him, but Dean swivels out of his hands, heart bleeding out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Dean mumbles, clutching the ruby in his shaking fingers. “I’ll tend to Cerberus and your Gardens. You don’t have to constantly be at my side, I won’t run anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Dean, that’s not what I wanted to do with the ruby,” Castiel says, exasperated. “I want you to walk beside me without stumbling, I want you to see more of my world, but it’s hard when I have to hold your hand. I can’t use half of my magic I’d like to show you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Save it,” Dean says, and backs up. Slowly. His heart burns. “I can’t believe I let myself feel something for a God who thinks I’m a chore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With this, Dean walks backwards, leaving Castiel and those blue blue blue eyes. For a second, Dean swears he can see Castiel’s heart on his sleeve, and it’s bleeding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel doesn’t show up at the Gardens for days, and Dean wallows in his own pain, sitting on a polished rock, surrounded by bloody flowers, their thorns reaching out to Dean, whispering about all the things Castiel thinks about him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vile, horrible thoughts Dean sometimes thinks about himself when he’s alone. And he is alone, especially here, with all of the screams and wailings coming from the deep underground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What Dean misses the most, is the touch. Castiel’s fingers on Dean’s skin, the warmth of his body, the low baritone of his voice and his dark laugh. Those eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean cries to himself, clutching the flowers to his chest, letting their thorns sink deeper into his skin, the leaves burn on his skin and leave dark imprints on his forearms and neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Castiel?” someone calls one day, a voice of a woman. Someone Dean can’t recognize. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman comes into view, her fiery eyes land on Dean just as quick as Dean realizes it’s Meg, Castiel’s second in command. He’s seen her from afar, when she was sitting on Castiel’s throne, her dress draped over the dark bones scattered at her feet. She’s just as beautiful as she is terrifying up close - her teeth are pointy, and her voice so sweet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You. Have you seen our Lord and Commander anywhere? He was supposed to be back already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I know where he is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe because you two are joined at the hip. I haven’t had a proper chat with our Lord and Commander in years because of you. Figured I’d come say hi and tell him I’m tired of manning his station.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I haven’t seen him in a while. Go away,” Dean says, and gathers more flowers and their thorns, ignoring the pain of newly made wounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs, disbelieving. “A puny human tells </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go away? I don’t understand what he sees in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t see </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>in me,” Dean says, hiding his face behind his hands, the ruby wedged in between his palm and his cheek. “He was just looking for a way to get rid of me and found it, it seems. I haven’t seen him since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg blinks a couple of times, and sits down on the ground right in front of Dean. He peeks through his fingers. She’s got her mouth open. “Wait, you can actually see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean says, and then shows her the ruby. “He made me this. Poured his blood all over it. I’ve become a burden, it looks like. He used to hold my hand to show me around, and I couldn’t see anything without him by my side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg’s still wide eyed. “You’re Dean Winchester, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me tell you something, Dean,” she says, in all seriousness. “A God like Castiel does not play around, especially not one who deals with death on a daily basis. For a God to spill their own blood for someone is a great honor, as Gods have magic flowing through their veins. It’s hard to make a God bleed, and their blood covers the lands, creates life - rivers, grass, stars, you name it. Castiel has </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>used his blood for creation, and he’s bled for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A human! It’s unbelievable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He just wanted to get rid of me and our daily walks,” Dean defends himself, even though his heart beats considerably faster at the notion of a God bleeding for him, out of all people. “Why would he give me a gift like this if he didn’t want me gone from his sight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins from ear to ear, then rolls her eyes and throws her head back, laughing out loud. “Unbelievable! Castiel bled for a human. I’ll be sure to hound his ass about this after he comes back from Zeus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Dean sits up straight, tears the flowers out of his chest. “He’s gone to Zeus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told me he’s bound to visit him sometime,” she says, and shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would he go there? Don’t they hate each other? He’s an </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg just smiles. “Oh, sweetheart. Haven’t you heard the stories? Zeus is afraid of him. He’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Meg leaves, Dean heads down to see Cerberus, who is as antsy as ever. The souls keep passing through the gates, one by one, and none of them shine. Dean sits down next to Cerberus, and lets himself be sick with worry. He’s been so angry with himself and Cas that he barely even registered Castiel leaving. What a fool. Why would he go to Zeus </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cerberus lowers one of his heads and gives a small nudge on Dean’s shoulder. He’s so gentle, Dean could honestly cry right now if he wasn’t so worried. The line stops for a second, so Dean wonders, out loud, “What would you do if you were incredibly in love with the God of the Underworld?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The line is silent apart from occasional screams and crying. Then, another voice comes, as if thinned out by water, murky and cold, “It’d be stupid to love a God.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>4.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Olympus is a hard climb and Castiel’s painfully climbing like a simple human. Not even Gods are exempt from the walk up. Castiel reaches the top, all covered in white snow and equally white columns, as tall as the mountains. The common area is bustling with lesser Gods - Castiel can name a few, but who knows, he hasn’t been up here longer than they’ve been alive. Whispers reach his ears as Gods gather in circles and talk about him with pointed fingers. God of the Underworld, here? What will Zeus do? Will there be war?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel ignores all of them, and moves down the fountains of youth, the gardens with butterflies and birds, colors bursting, hurting his eyes. There are clouds covering the skies, and the sun doesn’t shine as brightly as he remembers it from before. Every corner is pristine, white marble statues of Gods stand in the middle of flower patches - Castiel sees one of himself there. He shrugs, thinking he looks better dressed in black than the togas Zeus makes everyone wear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zeus is sitting on his throne made of angel wings, molten gold and diamonds. Castiel can’t help but see the worried glint in Zeus’ eyes, his gold-covered fingers tap lightly on his throne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave us,” Zeus says loudly, his voice booming down the entire Olympus. The curious Gods scatter, involuntary. It’s just Castiel and Zeus, now, Castiel’s standing his ground on the white marble. There are dark footprints on the ground, leading up to Castiel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for seeing me,” Castiel says, his crown feels heavy on his head. “I’m sorry for such a short notice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not everyday the God of the Underworld pays me a visit,” Zeus says. His own crown shines like a star. “It’s been a while, Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ll make this a short visit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? I would’ve liked for you to join our festivities,” Zeus says, grinning. His leg goes up and down, almost unnoticeable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel shakes his head, and then bows, slightly. “I’m here to ask a favor of you. Most kindly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A favor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you remember a man named Sam Winchester, and his brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zeus ponders for a good minute, then says, “I can’t say I do. Enlighten me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam Winchester married one of your half-daughters. For a price.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zeus nods. “Does sound familiar. I don’t usually meddle in human affairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Liar, Castiel thinks. Of course he remembers who he married his daughter off to. “I’ve met Dean Winchester, the man who volunteered to go down deep instead of his brother. I’ve come to ask you of this - to let him go of his sentence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s as if Olympus has gone into eternal silence - Zeus is as speechless as a God can be. Then, he says, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the favor you want to ask of me? To let go of a deal I’ve made with a human?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you came here to declare war on me, finally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve known me for an eternity, Zeus. I have no quarrels with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zeus drinks from a cup, red liquid goes down his glorious beard. He wipes it off, and says, “I can’t believe you’d come to Olympus over a human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet, I am here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The edge of war probably feels like this - as if there’s this calm before a storm. But Castiel’s not here with horrible intentions, and it’s hard for Zeus to see this, so Castiel kneels on one knee. This makes Zeus lean forward in his throne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Castiel,” Zeus says, slowly. “Let me give you some advice. I know we haven’t been good with each other, but I have experience with what you’re going through now. Loving a human is torture, my friend. To love a human like us Gods do is a death sentence of sorts - it will hurt, and it will feel like your world is ending. I’ve gone down this path and I haven’t been the same since. That’s my warning to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Castiel says. “But I need to go through with it for the sake of learning from my own mistakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Zeus says. “Strike a deal with me, Castiel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel comes back to the Gardens with a lighter heart and sees Dean glowering at him from a distance. Not understanding what he did now, Castiel walks up to Dean, who immediately points at him and starts yelling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the bloody hell have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>been</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I’ve been worried </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>, your followers have been hounding me asking about you. You only told </span>
  <em>
    <span>Meg</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re going to Zeus? Why would you go to Zeus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went there to strike a deal,” Castiel explains calmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s eyebrows go up, and he shakes with exasperation. “A </span>
  <em>
    <span>deal</span>
  </em>
  <span>. With Zeus? What </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were angry with me. I’ve been trying to charm you with gifts, I’ve created a ruby that makes you see with my own blood, and you walked away. I thought...I thought you wanted me gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want you gone!” Dean says, annoyed. “I walked away because you clearly didn’t want to be with me. You basically rejected me the day I almost kissed you. And you went to fucking Zeus because you thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted you gone? I’ve never wanted you gone, Cas! I’ve wanted to hold your hand, for fuck’s sake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s just as surprised as Dean, now. Dean’s standing there, breathing hard. So Castiel does the most sensible thing - walks over and takes Dean’s hand. Walks with him until they enter a place Castiel has hidden from anyone but him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s breathless with anger, his eyes are almost blazing red, the green completely gone. It sends shivers down Castiel’s spine. They’re standing in the only place in Castiel’s domain that Castiel hasn’t shown Dean yet - his royal quarters, his own bed, covered with the softest moss and flowers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You went to Zeus instead of talking to me!” Dean yells, holding his hand up, towards the overground. Towards Olympus. “You could’ve just </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> me you’re about to do the dumbest thing in existence, and I would’ve talked you out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel brushes his hair back, nervously, and says, “It wasn’t dumb, I haven’t asked him for a favor since I asked to go underground -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t make deals with Gods!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me, a God, that I can’t make deals with Gods?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean throws his hands up in exasperation. “Humans only need to go to the Underworld for ten years, or they get one weakness with their wish - so do tell me what Gods need to do to strike a deal? Are you going to go to war and help Zeus out? Will you push a mountain up an entire other mountain for an eternity? What did he offer you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God deals work differently, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel walks over to Dean, then, moves in as close as he physically can. Snakes his hands around Dean’s waist and buries his face in the crane of Dean’s neck, breathes in deeply and smiles to himself. “I’ve sworn to never side with any God as long as Zeus reigns. I’ve sworn to never set foot on Earth as long as he lives, on a couple of conditions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It drives him insane that Dean’s hands wrap around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him even closer. “What conditions, pray tell?” Dean whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That your sentence ends tomorrow,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All goes silent. Dean’s heartbeat sounds louder than any screams coming from the underground. “It hasn’t been ten years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nor have you ever turned around,” Castiel continues. “But yes. You’re going to be free to go. You’ll have to do it backwards, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’ll allow you to take all your new possessions with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean tightens his grip on Castiel, brings him close to his chest, splays his hands on Castiel’s back. “I don’t want anything, I want to take you with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I’ll have to stay here, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling away, Dean takes Castiel’s face into his hands, so gentle and brave. Makes him look straight into his eyes, drinks everything in with just one gulp of air, and says, “Let me strike a deal with you, God of the Underworld.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I won’t accept any deals from you,” Castiel says softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will,” Dean says, and breathes in. “Cas, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to strike a deal with me. I offer you my entire soul in exchange for one deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d have to stay in Hell forever after you die, Dean,” Castiel says, almost shaking. Dean’s beautiful eyes burn brighter than the sun. “I can’t ask you of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can,” he says. “For nine months, I stay outside. I won’t try to go through the entrance, I won’t pray to you, I promise you this. But three months out of a year, I get to go down and see you. That’s the only way you’ll get me not to turn around tomorrow and stay in Hell with you from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” Castiel pleads. “My dearest Dean. You need to have a wonderful life, a fulfilling life. You can’t spend portions of it in the darkness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean watches him as if he’s a flame, as if Castiel’s not breaking apart in Dean’s arms. For a God to love a human is to be doomed forever. Zeus was right, in a way - loving something so fragile hurts even when you have them wrapped around you. Castiel would never be able to bear seeing his love go through the gates of Hell and disappear in the fire forever, to be tortured for eternity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then how can I see you again?” Dean whispers, his lips close to Castiel’s own. A breath away. “If I go tomorrow, I’ll never be able to hold you. I’d rather die, Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears run down Dean’s face, the droplets that hit the ground bloom into those wretched burning flowers, and Castiel has never seen anything so intricate in his existence. Where Dean stands, there’s life; small blooms and vines travel up and wrap themselves around his feet, the thorns cut into Dean’s skin, but Dean does not budge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Castiel does something stupid, now. He looks at Dean, and says, loudly, “I’ll strike a deal with you, Dean Winchester. I’ll let you become a God. I’ll make you a God, and we can see each other again, you’ll be able to walk the earth and walk the underground as one of us. All you’d have to do is to have a good life and die peacefully one day. I’ll meet you at the gate and let you ascend. I promise you this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You promise?” Dean says, those petals burning on his skin. It’s as if Castiel only sees him now for the first time, those petals and vines and leaves are etched into Dean’s arms and legs, and he looks like a spring painting. Flowers bloom on Dean’s skin like tattoos. “I’ll be able to see you whenever I want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel says, his blood boiling with the need to touch Dean, to love him, to cherish him. “I’d do anything for you. But you need to pay the price.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d pay any price for you,” Dean says, and kisses him, sealing the promise. Castiel feels like he’s lifted up into the skies as Dean’s heat presses against him. Gods, kissing Dean is like kissing molten lava - the rush is unbelievable, his fingers are pressed into Castiel’s jaw, his thumbs run circles on Castiel’s flushed skin. Dean pushes him until the back of Castiel’s legs hit the bed, and they fall on the softest moss in the Underground. Dean reaches up and takes Castiel’s crown off, throws it on the ground carelessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel tentatively touches Dean’s forearms, leaves his own burn marks on Dean’s shoulders, leaves the coal-black fingerprints on Dean’s clothes. Opening his mouth, Castiel feeds his hunger, kisses Dean like he’s trying to taste sunlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dean shines, but not in the way Castiel has seen him that first time; it’s as if Dean’s happiness seeps through his pores. Dean’s kisses leave a burning trail down Castiel’s neck, and for the first time in ages, Dean’s nimble fingers brush Castiel’s shadows and smoke away, leaves him bare and almost human. Castiel closes his eyes as Dean worships him with his lips, down his chest, down his navel, his hot breath makes Castiel arch his back to the touch. Dean wraps one hand around Castiel down </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, moves up and down, in circles. Feeling something profound, Castiel blindly searches for Dean’s face, then pulls him closer so they can kiss as Dean’s working his own magic on Castiel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels so incredibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Castiel could cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dean kisses him, the whole world spins only for them. Olympus doesn’t exist, Zeus’ harsh words slip away into the wind. When Castiel slides a hand into Dean’s breeches, traces the outline of Dean with his fingertips and hears Dean moan into his mouth, the Underworld starts </span>
  <em>
    <span>shaking</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so beautiful,” Castiel whispers, eager to touch and kiss everywhere he can. “I’m never letting you go. I promise I’ll wait for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sheds his own clothes, and Castiel turns them around in one swift movement, leaning back to see Dean in all his glory. Freckled everywhere, the signs of spring choosing him as the God promised with nature growing on Dean’s chest - roses, with thorns of blood. Dean doesn’t notice any of this, just looks at Castiel with those incredible eyes, hooded with desire. He’s flushed red, like the roses, and Castiel kisses Dean like tomorrow’s not going to happen. Castiel takes time with Dean, works his fingers in until Dean pulls Castiel in closer and whispers </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes yes yes</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a tandem, like a prayer. When they’re joined together as one, when Dean moans straight into Castiel’s ear, it feels like they’re not underground - Castiel thinks, fleetingly, that he’s in heaven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not long until Dean arches into Castiel, his mouth open in a gasp, his eyes closed tightly, and it’s what sends Castiel over the edge. It ends too quick, but Castiel can’t complain - Dean’s persistent and in no time they’re at it again. Castiel tastes Dean on his tongue, lavishes in Dean’s attention on him as he kneels later on, finishes Dean off in record time and lets Dean’s hands roam wherever he wants them. It’s bittersweet, but oh, so glorious to see Dean open up like this just for Castiel. They’re on borrowed time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean takes the chalice, and some burning flowers. The most important thing he has, though, the ruby, he holds in his hand. Castiel stands right there at the edge of the path, unable to cross the line, but he watches Dean move backwards with such longing and agony, that Dean almost turns around, it seems. Dean walks slowly, small steps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops for a second, clutches the ruby, and says, “You promise you’ll wait?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel smiles, almost choking on the pain. He can’t bear to see him go. “I’d wait a million years for you, Dean Winchester. Go, have a good life. Meet me after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods, closes his eyes, and walks out of the Underworld. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell doesn’t stop shaking for weeks after. Zeus was right, in a way, it hurts for years, it makes Castiel howl like he’s the one being tortured. Every day without Dean’s light feels like all the good things in the world have come to an end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One day, the spring comes to him with the wind, scatters the smoke from underneath Castiel’s feet, and he sees the smile and those green eyes once again. </span>
</p><p>
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